


Victim

by orphan_account



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, M/M, Mentor!Krennic, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Violence, Rape Aftermath, Republic Futures Program, Revenge, Rough Sex, Sadistic Tarkin, Vengeful!Erso, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Republic Futures Program has much to offer in terms of it's challenging courses and respectable teachers. But what it doesn't have to offer, is protection. The purpose is to entice the genius and strength out of it's students. Not to attract the weak.Galen Erso has been lucky the first year of his attendance. But now, his luck seems to have run out and it's shattered him in more places than one. It remains to be seen if he can save himself or if someone else has to save him from this humiliation and molestation.





	1. Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where many of the Imperial Officers are together in the "Republic Futures Program". This takes place during the pre-Rogue One era, back to when Galen Erso is still a student. Some ages might be different to have them all be together.
> 
> Warning: I do not condone any of Tarkin's group's actions in this story, and yes, it is a dark novel. It's trying to show character but cruelty at the same time. They also all are over the age of sixteen, but not much older than that. Please read responsibly.

"Should we show this little bitch her place?" Motti jeers, his face alive and glowing with the down-bringing of his prey.

Erso cowered in the shadows of the supply closet.  _Why hadn't I been careful? It was foolish to be here without Needa..._

He raises his eyes fervently to look at the four of his classmates who stare him down with such malice, hatred, and jealousy in their eyes. He picks out their names from their uniforms. Motti, Tagge, Cass, and...Erso's mouth upturns into the beginnings of a snarl. Of course. These three idiots would blindly follow his orders. Although, it didn't surprise him that Tarkin could convince so many of his classmates to turn on him.

Of course, Erso knows Motti was dangerous from the beginning. Tagge looks the slightest bit uncertain and Cass looks almost terrified, but even so, Erso tries to hide farther. In every one of these students' eyes, there was excitement. Even in Cass'. 

_I thought you were my friend, Siward._

Cass looks him in the eye with an apologetic look, and he shoots him something else, some kind of look. Something like a message but Erso doesn't quite understand. It doesn't matter. Tarkin was speaking and that was always the center of attention.

_Narcissist._

"Of course, Conan." Tarkin drawls, sounding a very chilling tone of bored despite the wildness in his eyes. With the approval of his leader, Motti shifts forwards and picks Erso up by his collar. 

"Wilhuff please," Erso pleads, his eyes widening. Motti was strong and he was certainly doing a good job of scaring Erso. The pleading tone jerks out an hearty, booming laughter from Motti which was echoed by Tagge and Cass. Tarkin stays silent, watching his prey, waiting for the time to strike. 

"There's no mercy for the weak," Tagge smirks. Motti howls his approval.  _Well, I guess I was wrong about him being uncertain._

Tarkin comes forwards and lets a slender finger trace the curve of Erso's perfect cheekbones and his chiseled jaw.

"This door is sound proof, my dear Galen. I choose my battle grounds...dare I say...precisely," Tarkin says, "No one will hear you scream. So scream for me, Galen Erso. We won't touch your pretty face, that's for sure. It's sure a beauty to behold."

Motti laughs and aims a savage punch at Erso's stomach, and he manages not to scream as he doubles over and falls to the ground. Tagge steps forwards and kicks him, hard, before letting himself slam to the ground, his elbow driving through Erso's already aching stomach. He climbs up and realizes he's hurt from his own spectacularly dumb move and he snarls in a deafening way. 

"The little slut hurt me," Tagge snarls, "I say let's be done with this and just fuck her tight little ass and get going. I have parties to go to." 

Erso looks up, to tired to argue, when Motti lifts him and bends him over a spare crate. He gasps when the cool air bites at his sudden bare ass. He wants to cry so, so badly but the tears wouldn't come. Only a blind determination to not get himself more hurt than he was already going to be. Somewhere in the distance, he hears one of the four monsters snicker.

"You're perfect," Tagge says. "You're a teacher's favorite. You're a genius. You're handsome. And you have a nice ass. Well guess what, others exist too, bitch. Others have strengths too." 

With that, he shoves forwards. No lube. No stretching. Of course, what can you exactly expect from four boys raping another in a soundproof supply closet. No show of compassion would appear here. Nothing. Galen Erso has never felt more alone, but he knows something now. This wasn't just some random attack from Tarkin's little group. This was bottled up frustration and jealousy. And that was more than just dangerous. 

Erso moans involuntarily, eliciting a terrifying laugh from Motti and a snicker from Tarkin, but he doesn't want this. He's starting to tear as Tagge speeds up, gasping and moaning slightly as well. Tagge wasn't necessarily too big to take, but it was the broken dignity of being fucked like this. 

"Bitch come for us," Motti says, his every word like a thunder crack. Motti is satisfied but Tarkin is nowhere near that threshold. He watches, bored, until he can't take this elementary attempt at abuse any longer. 

"My dear Galen, that's not quite loud enough for my hungry disciples," Tarkin murmurs, drawing a finger along Erso's side. He tears off the shirt, revealing the impressive muscle below. Yet another thing to hate Erso for. He drags his fingernails along Erso's glowing back. Finally, he reaches the sensitive neck, and two viper like fingers clamp down perfectly onto his pressure points and Erso's whole body jerks and he screams, which only excites Tagge more. 

_I have to watch out for Tarkin. He's too intelligent for this. Even his speech is clipped and formal._

Still, no sob. No weep to assure the hungry boys that they were beginning to break their prey.

Tagge comes inside Erso and he pulls out, leaving blood and semen beginning to drip out of Erso's perfect ass. Cass came next, but the boy doesn't say anything when he pushes in, much gentler than Tagge had done. Still rape none the less, though. 

Tarkin gives Motti a commanding look, and the boy understands, walking forwards to shove into Erso's mouth. The star student gasps and begins struggling but he has nowhere to go. Between Motti and Cass, it's like he was tied down. He stops struggling and just lets his jaw hang painfully loose as Motti begins thrusting.

Most of all, his moans and screams are muffled by Motti.

"Galen, Galen, Galen," Tarkin sighs. "I told you to scream and I expect obedience from a slave like you."

_Slave. I'm not your slave, Tarkin._

But still, he tires to comply. He opens his larynx to scream, but that only prompts Motti to push deeper, cutting that off. Erso begins to struggle, his breathing being cut off. His nose works frantically to find solace. Tarkin makes a tutting nose. 

"I didn't expect such  _disobedience_ from you, Galen," Tarkin says. He jabs a finger straight into Erso's side, and starts digging around, slowly. Erso's screams become very much audible when the blood starts to flow. His body begins flailing and his teeth accidentally bump Motti's cock and the boy roars. He pulls out and aims a savage uppercut which makes Erso cry out and prompts Cass to come. 

He's bleeding and sticky but he still hasn't shattered yet, yet that was only two out of four. Motti lines up behind Erso, his erection barely flagging, and his intrusion makes Erso bellow in pain and anguish.

Erso felt hollow inside, and for that, Tarkin smiles. Hollow was good. Hollow meant breakable. Tarkin liked to watch things shatter beneath his will. 

"Please," Erso moans. "Please Wilhuff, please stop. Please, I'll do anything."

Tarkin walks until he's staring Erso in the face. In fact, he was towering over his prey, his eyes glinting with the predatory pleasure of torturing the student who had bested him so many times unwittingly. Erso was just smarter that way. He was just better that way. Tarkin hated that.

"And why would I do that?" Tarkin says, voice silky and smooth. "I have you right where I want you." 

Erso squeezes his eyes shut and feels the pounding, excruciating pain of Motti as he was repeatedly shoved against the edge of the crate. It was only just then that the crate began irritating his skin and he could feel it's sharp edges cutting into his legs. He screams again when Motti speeds up. He screams and screams and screams and then he's coming. Erso tried and failed to hide his horror at this.

_I didn't want this! I didn't want this!_

Motti laughs and catches some of it with his hand. He brings his hand to Erso's mouth and hisses with delight when Erso laps it up gingerly. He comes himself and pulls out, letting Erso fall to the ground, groaning. 

"On your hands and knees!" Tarkin yells, his voice suddenly very demanding and less silky. Erso complies. What else is there to do? He ached everywhere. "Now, lick. Lick, slave, lick."

Erso's eyes widen and he can almost sense the shock from Tarkin's friends. A sudden burst of pleasure from his rapists goes through the room as Tarkin forces Galen to bend over and lap everything up from the ground. The semen of three rapists, his own semen, and the blood from his ass.

Feeling disgusted and wanting to vomit, he sticks a very pink tongue out and begins lapping at the stuff on the already dusty floor.

"You look so beautiful on your knees," Tarkin remarks. "I think I want to invite someone else to the next party. Lorth Needa is his name, correct?" 

Erso stiffens for two reasons. The word  _next_ and the words  _Lorth Needa._ _He can't. Not in front of my friend..._

"Or perhaps I'll make  _you_ watch as we go down on him. Would you like that?" 

Erso whimpers and pulls up to reply before Tarkin raises his foot and shoves his head down violently, covering him in the mess. He's about to throw another kick when the door slams open and another boy enters the room.

Tiredly, Erso wonders who it is and if he has to go through more when the other boys flee. Even Tarkin takes one look at this newcomer and dashes out the room. It's almost funny the way Motti is trying to pull up his pants and run at the same time. Erso wonders vaguely what this newcomer had to do to earn this reputation.

"P-please don't hurt me," Erso begs, voice tired. The newcomer laughs. 

"I'm here to help you. My name, is Orson Krennic."

 

...

 

"Sleep in my quarters tonight," Krennic says, his voice rough and commanding. Even so, he sounds so much kinder than Tarkin could ever muster. He gets Erso some new clothes and gets bacta for all his wounds. 

"Thank you, Orson," Erso whimpers, still fearing the worst. Krennic sighs.

"I never got your name," Krennic says. 

"Galen. Galen Erso." 

It feels so strange to utter his name again.  _Am I still Galen Erso? Or was Tarkin right. Am I now just his slave to be dominated._

"Tarkin and his filthy bastards won't ever touch you again," Krennic vows. "Not under my watch, Galen."

"I take it the two of you have some sort of shortcomings?"

Krennic gives a shout of laughter. "Understatement. I fucking hate him and he fucking hates me." 

Erso lays back down on Krennic's bed. He watches as Krennic himself sits himself down on a chair by a circular table and rests his head on his fist. Erso wonders how many others Krennic had to save from Tarkin, and he wonders if it was much harder the earlier times, seeing as Tarkin and his gang were scared half to death when he entered. Erso was fit and muscular, but he wasn't trained to take on four more. Apparently this Krennic could from the looks of it.

 

He has so many questions burning in his head. 

_Why did you save me? How did you know I was there? What are they so scared of?_

The list went on. 

But as Erso goes to ask one of the questions, he hears a soft snore from Krennic. Feeling defeated and as if he could never be whole again, Erso closes his eyes and wishes for his mother again. 

 

...

 

Erso sits down at the mess hall with Lorth Needa and Wullf Yularen. 

"Where'd you go yesterday?" Needa asks, genuine worry in his eyes. "I couldn't find you anywhere!" 

Erso stares at his food for a moment, too repleted to eat. He finds the courage to answer from some leftover well of wholeness he didn't know existed.

"I went to the library to read. I've been having a hard time with some studies."

"I checked there, man."

"I was in one of the supply closets nearby. I...had some problems and I wanted to be alone." That was all truth.

Needa shoots him a look and Erso smiles weakly. Distantly, he notices Krennic, looking straight at him. He notices the nod Krennic as he approved the answer. His eyes seem to say 'Don't tell anyone what happened'. Erso nods back and Krennic goes back to eating and talking with his friends. All of his friends look bigger than him, around Motti's size. Erso wonders what he had to do to gain those friends as well.

Then he realizes Krennic sits in the center. He looks around for Tarkin was sitting in the center of his group as well. Erso shook his head to clear his raging thoughts. 

"You still there?" Yularen asks. 

"Yeah."

The rest of breakfast was eaten in silence until the bell rings and the students rush out of mess to let a younger wave enter and eat. Erso goes back to his quarters, talking quietly with Needa who's his roommate, and when he gives a quick turn, he sees Tarkin and his friends. A rush of fear goes through him but it's almost immediately calmed when he see's Krennic making his way down the same hallway with his team of tough looking boys. Among them, Erso suddenly recognizes as his distant friend, Dagio Belcoze. The Iktotchi caught his gaze and waved at him. 

Needa poked at him. 

"What are you staring at?"

"Oh, Dagio just waved at me."

Needa shivers and Erso remembers Needa's mild xenophobia. "His horns creep me out, man." 

Erso chuckles and the two of them make a turn and soon end up outside their quarters. Needa palms in and they grab their books. 

 

Class is boring, as usual. 

Erso finds Yularen and Needa passing notes and laughing when the teacher was facing the holoboard. Erso sighs and turns to the other person sitting next to him, Trech Molock.

"Trech," Erso hisses. 

"Galen," Molock hisses back. 

"When's class over?"

"Eighteen minutes."

"Got it." 

It was a useless interaction, but Erso felt as if he was missing out. The whole room was talking and chatting while the teacher was turned around, content to listen only to the boom of his own voice. 

But he was already missing out. 

_I'm not a student anymore. I'm just a slave to Tarkin's games. And not just Tarkin, Krennic. I'm caught in a pointless war._

As soon as class is over, Erso heads for his quarters, giving Needa a lame excuse of forgetting a book. It's not like Needa believes it, but it was the only choice Erso has. His own bed had never felt so comfortable when he dozes off, expecting to see Needa's face a few hours later, giving him a shocked speech on what why skipping class was a terrible idea.

Instead, the first face he sees when he's jerked awake is Orson Krennic's. 

"Tarkin's after you again," Krennic says, his voice gruff. Erso's tired eyes jerk completely awake.

"What? How do you know?" 

"Don't tell Tarkin about Cass."

" _What?_ You're spy raped me!"

"He had no other choice, Galen. If he didn't know about it, you'd still be there licking up shit off the supply floor," Krennic says. Erso's face crinkles in distaste but he lets Krennic continue nevertheless. "If he knew about it, he had to go or risk blowing his cover. Look, kid. I'm sorry for what Cass did. He signaled for me the first few minutes, but I got held up."

"With what?"

"Tarkin's other buddies intercepted me." Krennic sighs and rubs his temple. 

"Right now, there is no  _time."_ Krennic hisses. "You have to come with me unless you want a repeat of yesterday. Or something worse."

Erso nodded, his face impassive. Krennic jerks him up and leads him out the room without loosening his death grip. They passed Molock and Yularen, but Krennic and Erso ignored the staring faces.

A few short minutes later, Erso finds himself back in Krennic's quarters. Erso notices Belcoze sitting there, sipping at some water. 

"Okay, Galen. Dagio here is going to take care of you."

"And what about you?" 

"I'm going after Tarkin." 

Erso hisses but he sits down next to Belcoze. The Iktotchi stared him down as Krennic rushed out the room, flexing his arms. 

"Hey, Galen."

"Hey, Dagio."

The rest is silent. There was no need for small talk. Belcoze was his friend, but he was only here now to make sure Tarkin's skugs didn't jump Erso. Only a cool, professional tone had to be kept, but Erso was ready to leap up and join in the fight himself for the anticipation was killing him. 

Minutes passed.

Minutes turned into hours. 

At precisely three hours later, Krennic returns, holding his side and gasping in pain. Erso rushes forwards and grabs bacta patches and gel and begins helping Orson start the healing process. 

"Oh my god, Orson what happened."

Krennic just laughs, "Those are some powerful enemies you've made."

"I thought Tarkin was scared of you."

"Sure he is. When he's alone or with three or four of his little friends. But one man versus an army of twelve isn't exactly effective." 

"We fight, then," Erso declares, his voice grim. 

"Dagio and I are going to fight. You're going to get your ass handed to you."

Erso's eyes darken and he remembered that night again. His hands ghosted over his scars and he looked almost scary in the dim lighting of Krennic's messy quarters. He'd looked pain and humiliation in the eye and he was going to come to terms with it. 

"Not anymore."

His mind trails back again to the rape. To the beating. To the humiliation. To the threats.

 

_I'm going to wage the biggest war Republic Futures Program has ever seen._


	2. Repaid

Erso looks in the mirror.

Already, he looks older and more tired. He brings a hand up to rub at his tired eyes.

He should be in bed. He should be crying. He should be going to a teacher for help. For recompense. But he doesn't.

If anyone got wind of what Tarkin did to him, Tarkin would be removed from the Republic Futures Program. It doesn't offer protection, but this is beyond acceptable. _Then_ how would Erso plant his revenge?

Erso stares down the mirror, suddenly horrified of himself. 

 _I should just have him leave. I should just get him and his friends out of this program forever._ _Instead, I want to do...what?_ Erso shakes his head.  _I'm innocent. I need to keep it that way._

His hand slithers over to a commslink. He could click it and alert the teachers of what happened. Krennic had deliberately not put any bacta on his ass, so it would be obvious he was telling the truth...

Erso takes his hand back and shakes his head. 

_I'll forever be a slave to Tarkin. If not in the flesh, than in the mind._

He understands the problem needs to be rooted out at the source and not just temporarily taken care of. So, feeling as though he doesn't even know himself anymore, he picks up a toothbrush and starts brushing lightly. When he rinses his mouth out, the water is clear except for some of the white from the toothpaste. But in his mind, he can see red. The bitter blood and memories.

Erso shakes his head and the water was white and clear once again. His mind is set.

 

...

 

Yularen and Molock sit down next to him at lunch and Needa stops laughing.

The look on their faces are stone cold, slightly angry, and very demanding. Erso shoots them a look and raises a slim eyebrow. Distantly, he wonders if he's still handsome or if yesterday made him ugly.

"We saw you, Galen," Yularen says. Erso freezes and his blood turns to ice.

"Did you now?" Erso replies, his voice calm. "Could you clarify, what did you see?"

Molock shakes his head and his voice is gruff, "Do  _not_ talk or associate with Orson Krennic, do you hear me?" 

"What do you mean?" Erso says.

"Orson. He was leading you somewhere and we saw you, Galen," Yularen replies.  _At least they don't know about the rape..._

But this did bring up questions. At the mention of Krennic's name, Needa had stiffened and Erso wants to know why. What was scaring Needa so much and what was making Yularen and Molock so angry?

"What's wrong with Orson?" Erso chooses to ask. Needa looks at him like he's crazy.

"What's wrong with that son of a bitch?" Yularen asks, his voice almost hysterical. He looks ready to have an aneurysm. Or worse. "Force help me, how much do you know about this place?" Erso ignores him.

"There's not much substantial proof," Needa says, his voice shaking. "But they say he killed Moradmin Bast."

"Who's that," Erso asks, chewing on some fruit halfheartedly.  _Too sour._

"Three years ago, Wilhuff sent Moradmin to do something to Maximilian."

"And he is?"

"Damn it, Galen you need to do your research on this place. Maximilian Veers. Close friend with Orson. Apparently, Orson found out and he killed Moradmin." Maybe Erso was delirious or maybe he was just a little too broken, but he didn't see the problem. All that story did was clear up a little on Orson's apparent war with Wilhuff. But he couldn't exactly say that, could he?

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Erso found lying just a bit easier after yesterday. In his mind he had no sympathy for this 'Moradmin'. 

"Galen, are you listening?" Yularen says, his voice getting angry. "Stay away from him! He's a fucking madman and we care about you a little too much to see you killed by him." Erso feels a small wave of gratitude flood over him, but it doesn't change his decision. He just has to be a little bit more discreet about asking Krennic for help. He looks around the mess hall to see if Krennic was listening, but he couldn't find him anywhere. Krennic isn't at mess. And neither is Tarkin. And neither is Motti or Tagge.

Erso stands up and went to throw away his leftover food. Molock watches him with a sharp eye.

"Lorth, I forgot some stuff. Can you take notes for me?" Needa shoots him a suspicious look but nods his assent anyways. Erso walks out of the mess hall, a murderous look on his face.

 

...

 

Motti shoves Krennic against the wall again. Krennic snarls and throws a savage punch at Motti who instantly releases him to grip the side of his face that was beginning to run with blood. 

Krennic pulls back his fists, ready for a fight when both Tagge and Motti advance on him at the same time, rendering him immobile. Tarkin advances on him, none of the restraint he had with with Erso present in his eyes. Yesterday was to break the spirit and today was to break the body. 

"You fucking bastard," Krennic growls and lunges forwards despite the grasp both Motti and Tagge have on both his arms. They pull him back, violently, and he feels something crack. Even so, the two boys had a hard time holding Krennic still.

"My parents would say otherwise," Tarkin says, his voice low and mad with hatred. 

"You got some fucking gut, doing this in my own quarters," Krennic says. "I'll fucking kill you." 

Motti punches him. Krennic just starts smiling, his amazingly white teeth bloodied. He stops struggling. Instead, he's trying to slide the knife out of his pocket by moving ever so slightly. 

"Galen was mine," Tarkin bellows. 

"Just as Moradmin was?" Krennic spits out the word  _was_. Tarkin stiffens, his visage frozen in hatred. He gets very close to Krennic's face. 

"Stay away from Galen Erso," Tarkin hisses. "He's mine." Tarkin presses his heel into Krennic's crotch and watches as Krennic chomps down on his bottom lip, preventing himself from screaming.

Tarkin had so many terrible things in mind when the door hissed open. 

Tarkin whirls around and looks Erso in the eyes. Krennic looks up and shakes his head 'no', but Erso doesn't listen. He keeps walking to Tarkin, his eyes alive with anger, and that prompts Tagge to get up and deal with him.

With the sudden loss of pressure on his right arm, Krennic draws his knife only to have it be slapped away by Motti, who was dimly aware of Krennic's tricks. The knife whirls across the room and lands on the ground near Erso's left foot. 

Krennic panics and shakes his head violently, his eyes saying 'keep your innocence'. 

But Erso was blind with fury and he dropped to pick up the blade. 

"You won't kill me," Tarkin laughs when Tagge backs away from the blade, leaving Tarkin and Erso alone and circling each other. As a mutual respect or just fear of the blade, Krennic, Motti, and Tagge stay away from Erso and Tarkin.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're perfect, Galen. You wouldn't dare tarnish your image."

Erso smiled, showing his teeth. He didn't miss the way Tarkin flinched for a split second.  _He knows he can't overpower me._

"You're right, Wilhuff," Erso says. He smirks inwardly at the not-so-obvious relief on Tarkin's face. Even so, Erso can see just about anything. With a lunge, Erso brings the blade with him and slices a very shallow horizontal groove through Tarkin's chest. Not fatal, but very painful. 

 _Are those my hands?_ Erso thinks absentmindedly, his mind filled with wonder.  _No. Those are the hands of someone else._

Tarkin falls to onto one knee, gasping but refusing to scream. Motti roars and lunges forwards but Krennic flips around and pulls him into a sleeper hold. Tagge looks terrified and he backs away to the edge of the room.

Tarkin loops up to see Erso's terrified yet angry eyes. It seems as if two souls were living inside his body. The docile creature and the it's vengeful counterpart. Galen Erso was split in two. The need to run away and forget this happened and the need to start his vengeance. In the end, he settles for something in the middle. Tarkin, Motti, and Tagge flee, sending him one last terrified look.

Erso sinks to his knees and stares at his hands, the daze over.

"Oh my god what did I do." 

Krennic walks over and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Galen. Don't ever do that again." Krennic says, his voice gruff. "Leave the dirty work to me. You need to keep whatever light is still in you. But...I guess I owe you some gratitude. So thanks for saving me." 

Erso wants to cry.

_What is happening to me!_

He did what Orson Krennic would have done. Not what he would have done. 

Erso knows that if yesterday hadn't happened, he would have dropped the knife and accepted any sort of rebuke. But now, Erso can't do that anymore. He was getting stuck in the endless cycle of fear. 

"How did you know I was in trouble?" Krennic asks to break the silence.

"My friends told me about Moradmin." Krennic winces but he doesn't say anything. "Then I looked around for you and saw you, Tarkin, Motti, and Tagge were missing. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened."

"Glad you figured it out."

"Is it true?" 

Erso already knows it's true, but he wants Krennic to say as much. Wants to trust Krennic. Because right now, he can't even trust himself, let alone a murderer who happened to save his skin. 

"Yes," Krennic breathes. "I'm so sorry, Galen." 

"Oh." Erso's reply is short and concise, but he's storming with thoughts and relief. He thinks he can trust Orson Krennic, and when he thinks something, he's usually right. So he stares down the taller boy and starts talking. 

"Tarkin has to pay for this."

"You can't go after Tarkin alone. He'll tear you to shreds."

"That's why I need your help."

The request was crystal clear and Krennic sighed. Krennic nodded slowly, his own mind storming with possiblities.

 

...

 

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has access to hidden cameras the Republic Futures Program don't even know about. 

And what he's seeing pleases him greatly. He sits back and breathes slowly, watching the moves each sides of this impending war was creating. It was a long month and his sadistic eyes found Erso's breaking very...interesting. 

His plans are starting to come to fruition and he knows he needs officers he can count on. Officers who are cruel and would do anything to complete the task Palpatine himself assigns them

Tarkin fit perfectly. Motti would fit soon enough when he was more cunning. Tagge was also a good choice. 

Krennic, however, had proven to be extremely valuable, but his good heart would prove to be a problem.

And despite Galen Erso's perfect grades, genius mind, and every other good quality, Palpatine never thought highly of him. Perhaps a great general for the Republics, but not for his Empire. 

Now, his mind was changing. Palpatine watches through a security feed as Erso slices Tarkin open for the beginning of his vengeance. A lovely sight to see. 

Palpatine closes his eyes. 

It was a good decision, making the Republic Futures Program. A program where he can breed the officers he needs. All he has to do is push the right buttons and weed out the weak.

 

...

 

Erso and Krennic stood, facing the punching bag in the empty gym. It's late, and most people are asleep

"I don't see how this is necessary," Erso grumbles. "I asked for your help, not your training." 

"If Tarkin catches you alone, you need to be able to fight multiple people, Galen. The only reason they got me this morning was because the drugged me slightly while I was still sleeping."

"Excuses," Erso smirks. 

Krennic smiles for perhaps the first time. "Now punch the bag." Erso finds it's a nice change from his sarcastic laugh and his scowl.

Erso obeys, but the punch was weak and the bag barely moves. Krennic knows he purposely held back to lessen the impending pain on his knuckles. That was something Krennic didn't have to worry about - his knuckles were already callused. 

"Orson, I really don't think this is helping anything." 

"Just shut up and punch the fucking bag." Erso scowls. He's not used to being ordered around like this. His friends see him as a genius and a talent filled model student. Tarkin was the first to order him. It seemed odd Krennic should be the second. 

Still, he complies and throws another punch. It wasn't a bad punch. It was actually quite normal and his form wasn't bad at all. Erso remembers reading a few books on hand to hand combat. So, using a mindset some would kill to have, he falls into the pose of every fighter he'd seen sketched in his book. Erso hasn't thought that he needed to actually use this knowledge, but apparently he was wrong. 

He throws another punch, and although it would be a very damaging blow, Krennic still shakes his head. 

"Take off your shirt."

Erso freezes, his mind returning to the day before when he sees Krennic's impatient face again. It didn't bore the signs of a killer. It bore the signs of a mentor. So he gingerly took off the shirt. It was a white shirt, like every other shirt he owned. 

"Siward said you were muscular," Krennic says. He walks around Erso, inspecting what he's seeing. "You're thin. Slender. Your back looks somewhat muscular." He returns to a front a lets his hand slide across Erso's stomach. "You need to work on abdominal muscle. That's why your punches are so straight. You're relying on your shoulder blades." 

Krennic gets into the same pose Erso was using. He himself throws a punch at the bag, but as he's going forwards, he makes sure to twist his stomach and plant his feet while shifting to accommodate his changing center of balance. The punch is angled and deadly.

Erso gasps when he sees how far the bag flings itself. 

"You're saying I can do that?"

"I can do that. Why can't you?"

Krennic takes off his own shirt, revealing his own muscle. He's not as muscular as Motti, but Erso had a feeling that Krennic would be able to win a fight easily. Krennic was not only muscular, he was lithe and slender. 

The spend the rest of the night exercising.

Krennic makes Erso punch the bag until he wants to cry. After that, Krennic makes him run the treadmill until his legs give way. After that, Krennic makes him lift weights and doesn't let him stop. Hours later, Krennic leaves the gym and comes back with some food and fruit. 

"I'm not stronger," Erso says, dropping the fifteen-pound weights on the floor with an audible clank. It's morning and sunlight filters through a window. 

"No, you're not. Get to class, Erso. I'll see you tomorrow night." 

Krennic disappeared out the gym door leaving Erso seething. He just spent a whole night in the gym with a...a murderer. And the only directive he's given is the fact that he'll be here again.

Erso leaves the gym and see's it's breakfast time. He's afraid to go to mess and see Needa, Yularen, or Molock. So, instead, he chews on the fruit Krennic gave him yesterday, or was it earlier today? He goes straight to class and ends up sitting next to Needa anyways. 

"Where were you?" Needa hisses. "I didn't see you the whole day, and you didn't come back to the quarters at night. Yularen turned over the school, looking for you."

"I was at the gym," Erso replies truthfully. "I-I had some things on my mind and I wanted to be alone." 

Needa rolls his eyes. "Of course, Yularen didn't check the gym." Needa hands him the notes he took for him the day before. Erso shoots him a thankful look. His eyes skim over the notes and he catches the information immediately. The teacher calls his name a few minutes later and asks him a question, oblivious of his previous absence, but Erso can still give the correct answer.

Erso's suddenly very tired and he tells Needa that. Needa sighs and, as soon as class is over, escorts Erso to their room. Erso falls asleep before his head hits the pillow. Needa watches and decides to take a nap himself. Erso begins to dream.

 

_ "Tarkin, don't you dare," I shout. Of course he doesn't listen. _

_ "Galen, just let it happen," Krennic replies to me.  _

_ I don't know why I just shouted but now I see why. Krennic's bloody. Face down, and Motti's going to... _

_ "Tarkin, stop!" _

_ Tarkin steps into the shadows. Motti looks at me. It's scary. I'm scared. Not just for me - for Krennic too.  _

_ "Don't plead with Tarkin, little bitch. I'm the one who's going to make you suffer. _

_ I turn my head when Krennic starts to scream. _

 

"Galen!" Krennic hisses, shaking him. 

Erso wakes with a start and he almost falls out of bed. "You're okay!"

Krennic shoots him a confused look. "Of course I'm okay. It's 2200. I want you at the gym." Erso groans and nods, getting out of bed. Above him, he can hear Needa snoring and he suddenly remembers Needa's fear of Krennic. So he puts on a clean shirt right away and follows Krennic to the gym. 

It's beginning to surprise him how much he's starting to enjoy the nights when he did nothing but work. 

Distantly, Erso wondered what else Tarkin had in store for him. The world was harsh, so Erso had to get harsher. 

 

But he knows he's backed by Krennic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters three and four are in the drafting process - snow days give me real chance to settle down and work on this. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Scattered

Krennic is a good teacher.

It's been two weeks. Every day, Erso shows up at the gym and under strict instruction, he trains. He trains until all he knows is eating, sleeping, sleeping through class, and training. Even so, he still achieves perfect marks.

Tarkin notices that much. He notices half the time, Erso doze off every few minutes in class and he notices the other half he's not even there. But when the grades are published, Erso still gets top marks. He just knows the material that well. Tarkin's almost driven crazy - he wants to launch another assault on Erso, but his connection with Krennic in too strong and Krennic has what seems like a garrison set up in his own quarters and the areas around where Erso and Needa live.

He never thought he could hate Orson Krennic even more than he did before, but evidently, he was wrong. 

Despite that, Erso is happy. Whether or not it's an illusion, Erso doesn't care. His life is simple - perhaps simpler than before when he just laughed with Needa, ate with Yularen, and studied with Molock.  _ Then, _ he was free.  _ Now,  _ he was Krennic's. Although he rarely goes near Krennic in the day to avoid antagonizing Yularen, Molock, and Needa, Krennic tells him what to eat, what to do, and he controls his night. But, Force help him, Erso doesn't hate it. 

Erso looks up from an endless pile of homework on the datapad he'd neglected to watch the clock. 2138. He's expected at the gym in twenty two minutes. Erso's genuinely surprised at the way Krennic takes this so seriously. 

Right now, he can picture Krennic who always arrives thirty minutes early. He's there to map out the measurements of Erso's muscle, weight, and other factors. He's there to set up a routine he'll oversee for the next eleven to twelve hours. 

Erso smiles to himself. At first, he'd been wary around Krennic. But now, he can't help feeling as if Needa and the rest were just...wrong. It was just so damn  _ easy _ to be with Krennic. Something he didn't quite understand and Erso understands everything. 

Absentmindedly, Erso scratches some random answers that he constructs using big words that sound professional onto the datapad. He watches the minutes tick by because he can't wait to be with Krennic, no matter how much of a toll it takes on his studies and sleep. Erso doesn't care. He finds he's developed a strange liking to the way someone else chooses his actions for him. It makes everything...simpler. Simpler and easier. It put's Erso's raging mind at rest. Finally, an end to the whirlwind of thoughts and regrets and pain. He's falling into Krennic. 

The clock reads 2143, and the minutes aren't going by any faster. So he decides to go down early.  By the time he get's down, it's 2145 flat and he enters the gym. Krennic doesn't notice - he has some music playing and he's looking down at three datapads, a deep frown engraved on his face. He looks annoyed but also buffeted. Erso shuffles a few steps further until his feet are in view and Krennic jerks up, pointing a knife at him. Erso grins and Krennic puts the knife down. He looks lost. Lost, scared, tired, and something else Erso can't quite name. 

"Go back to sleep," Krennic says. His voice sounds unused and unpolished. "You've done well, but I think you deserve a break." Erso smiles and steps forwards, right into Krennic's space. Krennic twitches, as if uncomfortable with having someone else this close. Still, he doesn't pull away or push Erso away. 

"Who says I wanted a break?" His feet take him a couple scant steps closer. Krennic's breath hitches as if a hundred Mottis shoved at him. Still he doesn't move. His pupils just dilate in a way tells Erso everything he needs to know. Erso knows the signs. He's had Krennic read through and through since near the beginning. Still, he didn't expect it to escalate this soon. But perhaps it wasn't soon enough. 

"Stop," Krennic rasps. His voice is rough but unconvincing. Erso doesn't even think Krennic is talking to him. Krennic's probably talking to himself.  _ Stop what, Krennic? What is it you want so desperately?  _

Krennic's eyes graze his like blaster shots. Erso tries and fails not to flinch. Erso tries and fails not to drown in the bright blue. The only thing Erso manages to do is to not pass out. His vision is starting to darken around the edges and whether it's from lack of sleep or being this close to Krennic, he can't tell. It almost seems as if his attention and intelligence just...evaporated into thin air. 

"Or what?" Erso chooses to say. He takes another small step forwards. Krennic looks almost sickly in the dimly lit gym. Perhaps he is. Erso's vision clouds a little more and he wonders if this is a wrong decision. Krennic just stares and shakes his head, the sudden daze gone. Erso's vision returns to normal, and with that, he's sure. He's certain that he's making the right decision. 

Erso has rarely had much affection in his life, so he's clueless as to how to start. Sure, he's seen books on it but he doesn't pay attention on the "how to" part, he pays attention to the "how to know" part. So he slides a hand across Krennic's shoulder and down his arm. Krennic rolls his eyes and just pushes forwards so they're both on the ground and their lips touch. 

Krennic crushes him with his kisses. Erso can't tell be he thinks the music's still playing. 

All of a sudden, he's infinitely more grateful for the strength Krennic helped him build. Krennic's rough and his body's almost bursting in heat. They tussle and nuzzle and bustle and Erso feels like he can't breathe. 

"Please," Erso gasps, his voice unsteady and breath coming in intervals. 

Krennic looks at him, in a sudden confusion. "Please, what?" When Erso doesn't answer the question, he repeats it, louder. Erso looks up at him, his eyes pleading. But he still doesn't say what he wants. Krennic can take a pretty good stab at what he wants but he doesn't want to risk being wrong. Not with Erso and especially not after that night with Tarkin and his gang.

"Please," Erso repeats. They both stand up and Krennic lets the other boy fall into his arms. "Please, Orson. Please." Erso can't bring himself to say what he wants. And Krennic knows that, but he doesn't exactly know what to do. So he says the only thing that comes to his blank mind. He squeezes his eyes shut and starts talking. 

"People stay away from screwing after rape, you know," Krennic murmurs, praying to the Force that he didn't misunderstand Erso. He chose the term 'screwing' over 'sex' to lighten the tone, but he wasn't sure if it came off that way. Briefly, his mind asked him why he cared so much about Erso and his feelings, but the answer was already there. Krennic opened his eyes to Erso's smile.

"Wrong. Thirty eight percent of people engage in higher sexual activities after rape, minority as they are," Erso says. He backs out of Krennic's grasp and shoots him a meaningful look. "You should know I'm always in the minority." 

Krennic huffed and mock defeat and he put a firm but relieved hand on Erso's shoulder. "You're turn to be wrong. You're not the minority. You're the only one. Well, at least the only one who's ever gotten my affection."

"Wow," Erso says. "Some achievement."

"Shut up and follow me."

 

...

 

They retire to Krennic's quarters. Erso stays in a corner when Krennic wakes Belcoze who's very irritated at being awakened at this hour, but he persuades his roommate to get a drink for two hours. Erso watches as Belcoze, half clothed and a mess of grumbles, comms a few friends. He watches as Belcoze leaves, promising only two hours. He watches as Orson slips his shirt off, revealing the muscle once again. Erso follows suit and for the third time, he's immensely grateful for the muscle Krennic helped him build.

"You don't have to do this," Krennic murmurs. 

"No, you misunderstand. This isn't because..." Erso takes a deep breath. "I can't face myself, Orson. Oh hells, I look in the mirror and instead of a star student, I see a victim. I see someone who's been abused. Someone who's changed for the worse. I went to the library earlier today to study but, Force help me, I passed the supply closet and my mind made me relive that night."

"So...you think this is going to make it better?"

"It has to. I'm done, Orson. I'm so done being afraid of Wilhuff Tarkin. Thinking back, when Conan picked me up...when Conan did all those things to me, when I begged, I didn't beg Conan to stop. I begged Wilhuff." Erso shifts to stare straight at Krennic and it's Krennic's turn to flinch at the gaze. "Hells, it wasn't Conan who did that to me. Wilhuff never sexually abused me but somehow everything was him." Erso forces a laugh that's half fake half real and all hysterical. "He wanted to show he was the master. He thinks that only animals fuck like that. So he brought animals. Conan and Cassio." He deliberately doesn't mention Siward Cass, knowing it'd offend Krennic and if he did, that'd be the end of tonight's purpose. 

Krennic nods slowly, still missing how this is helping anything. But a sudden realization came over him and hurt flirted into his eyes. Hurt that Erso saw all too quickly and realized he made a mistake. Krennic lets his head hang. 

"No no, Orson. Oh, I'm sorry that's not what I meant," Erso pleads when he realizes what he's done. "If I...if I...if I didn't...love you. Then how would I ever trust you to do what Tarkin did to me?" He hopes he sounds convincing, because it certainly is true. He trusted Krennic. But he didn't want to admit he loved another. It all seemed pointless to him, but he did love. And so did Krennic.

"I'll be gentle," Krennic murmurs, not knowing what else to say. He still feels the aftershocks of the pain. He twitches violently when Erso takes his hand and squeezes it. Krennic can't help but notice how scared Erso is. 

"No," Erso says. "No, do  _ not _ be gentle." He catches sight of Krennic's face and understands he's asking a lot. He knows Krennic can't bear to hurt him no matter how short of a time they've been together. Hell, they met with Krennic saving his life and they spent hours upon hours together for two weeks. Krennic probably expected this moment to be intimate. To be a gesture of love. Instead, he got a pain-wracked lover who he didn't love any less because of that, but he knew it'd kill him to hurt Erso. But Erso just pushed a finger into Krennic's mouth. He bites his lip but continues anyways with a slightly shattered pride. "I need you to hurt me, Orson. I need you to make me  _ me  _ again. I need you to make me understand that I'm letting this happen to myself. That I have a choice."

Krennic bites his lip and looks away. Finally, he nods. 

It isn't any easier to take Krennic than it was to take Motti. Krennic's big. Bigger than Motti and maybe double Tagge. It hurts. It hurts so much that Erso feels tears beading at his eyes. He hooks a leg over Krennic's shoulder. It still hurts.

But it doesn't just hurt him physically, he's tearing mentally. But Krennic...oh, Krennic's hot, lush presence brings him back. Reseals the wounds created. Reseals but doesn't rejuvenate. Krennic was healing his wounds but he wasn't returning him to his old self. Both Krennic and Erso know that Erso will never be the agreeable, content, teacher's pet anymore. He's something else. Driven by rage and vengeance. 

"Please," Erso says. "Please, please, please." 

"Galen! Galen, tell me what you want." Krennic himself pleads for Erso to tell him what's making him plead because it's killing him to see Erso lying there, his face twisted into eight kinds of hell. But all Erso says is 'please'. Erso starts sobbing, but Krennic still doesn't understand. 

Erso's eyes widen in panic and he grabs at Krennic's chest. His hands skate over the bare skin and he grasps upwards. Krennic hisses when Erso's hands latch onto his neck. The fear is evident now, and Erso repeats the word faster now. Krennic realizes he's still thrusting and what suddenly what Erso wants is clear. Krennic's own face morphs into the expression Erso's wearing.

"Whenever you want," Krennic says. Erso smiles weakly and comes, the fluid staining Krennic's stomach. Krennic himself comes when Erso's body tightens around him and he collapses, his rock hard muscle turning into a watery mush. 

"Thank you," Erso whispers, content. He makes a sound that resembles a cross between a purr and a growl. He doesn't want to do anything for forever. He doesn't even make a move to wipe his tears away. He just wants to lie down, and breathe Krennic into his soul. 

"You didn't have to ask me."

"Yes, I did." 

Krennic pulls a blanket over the both of them and Erso sleeps, curling up in the groove of the arch Krennic's body forms. In this position, Erso can hear Krennic's heart beating and it's a sweet music. Erso almost feels like a child again, waking up to nightmares and going to sleep with his father and mother. He forgets about Needa and Belcoze. 

He forgets about Tarkin.

  
  


...

 

Krennic sits down with Erso at mess at breakfast so they're across from Yularen and Needa.

When he does, Needa nearly jumps out his skin and Yularen's hand skates for his knife. Molock is sick today, so luckily Erso's spared that. He's not the mood on more lectures and arguments. 

"Bitch," Yularn hisses. "I told you to stay away from that freak, Galen." His eyes dart to Krennic and his grip tightens on the knife. 

"You can't kill me," Krennic says. His voice is low and threatening. His own hand reaches for the knife before Erso slaps the hand away. Needa looks around, terrified, as if Krennic would suddenly start beating Erso's face in. Instead Krennic goes back to eating and Erso sends his friends an apologetic look. But not before his eyes shoot lasers at Krennic. 

"What he means to say is, 'Hi, my name is Orson Krennic. I'm not sure we've met before.'" Erso turns to look at Krennic and shoots him a critical look. His eyes plead with Krennic. Krennic looks at Yularen, and then Needa who promptly cowers back a little bit.

"Hi, my name is Orson Krennic. I'm not sure we've met before." Erso sighs at the sarcastic tone but he appreciates Krennic's restraint anyways. Erso knows how angry Krennic gets with anyone who insults him. Well, anyone but Erso himself. Krennic can usually stay calm, but he's already told Erso how much he hates his friends. Usually, he has a mouthful of adjectives to use.

"That's a tight leash you've got on, Krennic," Yularen says. Krennic looks like he has something to say, but he catches Erso's gaze and goes back to stabbing his food. 

"Look, Orson isn't a bad guy, Wullf." Yularen opens his mouth to say something but Erso's look silences him. "I'm friends with him whether or not you like it. The only difference is I need you all to at least coexist. I'm not asking for friendship, Force forbid, but if I want to stay friends with both of you, then you need to learn how to at least be in the same room." 

 

Yularen nods reluctantly in a silent respect, but he doesn't look any more forgiving. Krennic sits down, his expression stone cold. Erso looks around the room and lets out a sigh of relief when he saw not many students paid attention to the conflict. But he freezes when his eyes catch someone else's.

Tarkin's eyes seem yellow.

Perhaps it's the lighting or it's Erso's mind. But a sudden rush of fear goes through him. Krennic notices Erso starts shivering and looks where Erso's looking. When Krennic and Tarkin's eyes meet, it's like a clash of gods. Erso can almost feel the intensity of the hatred. Krennic brings a fruit to his mouth and chews slowly. Tarkin just smirks and that alone is infuriating. 

At the corner of his eye, Erso sees Motti get up and whisper something in Tagge's ear. Tagge gets up too and says something to another one of Tarkin's friends Erso recognizes as Kendal Ozzel.

When he sees that Krennic didn't notice that exchange, he leans in whispers a few uncomfortable warnings. 

"Motti, Tagge, and Ozzel."

"I'll get Veers, Belcove, and Piatt." 

 

The bell rings and breakfast is over. Grudgingly, Yularen shakes Krennic's hand and they start talking about Force knows what. It almost seems as if they're starting to get along. Almost. But Erso falls back in line with Needa. 

"He's not as scary as I thought he would be," Needa admits. "But you should still be careful." 

Erso sighs and wonders how much longer he can lie to everyone. But Krennic and he both know how dangerous it would be to drag Needa or Yularen into this war with Tarkin. So, with a heavy heart, Erso just agrees with Needa and leaves the details out. Erso smiles and it almost scares him how real it seems and how easy it is for his face to slip into the smile. 

_I have so much to do. So much to make up for._

 

Right now, he just wants to sleep with Krennic again and escape this madness.


	4. Involved

Erso was wrong.

He didn't love Krennic. 

And he knows this because now, when his gratitude rises and affection surges, he finds how hard it truly is to love. Because now, he truly loves Krennic. Before, it was just a child's dream. A lust he couldn't shake. Before, he wanted Krennic. Now, he heart ached for him to the point where Erso's soul bled when he was away from him.

Erso finds himself staring at Krennic throughout the nights when he trains. He's memorized everything about his lover. Often, when he's alone during the day, Erso can reach into his memory and trace Krennic's visage onto the headboard of his bed. He does so now whilst his eyes close in silent remembrance. 

He always traces the powerful jaw first so he has room for the blistering eyes and the sharp nose that Erso can almost imagine cutting into his hair. Next, he traces the sharp hair of a formal officer and the ears that were always willing to hear. The ears that hear him laugh with Needa and hear him cry about Tarkin. Then, he delights in tracing the soft, pink lips that so often wanders it's way to Erso's own. He makes sure to put the eyebrows in a constant scowl and deep eye-bags from constant worry and lack of sleep. 

Krennic is beautiful. And Erso is not. 

Once, he was. His face a constant reminder of the good in this world. He seemed to live in a smile and he was alive with laughter. Now, he's not handsome anymore. His eyes are hollow and his soul was mended wrong. But in Krennic's eyes, he might as well be the God of Beauty. 

Erso gets up and goes to the gym. It's 0013 and well past the time when Krennic expects him there, but he knows Krennic's waiting for him. Waiting patiently and without fail. But this time is different. When Erso walks through the gym doors, almost immediately, he finds a hand closed around his neck, cutting almost all of his air supply off. Krennic looks dazed and angry and lost. 

Erso slams his heel into Krennic's and the iron grip on his throat vanishes. He falls to the ground, gasping for air. At the edge of his vision, he can see more empty bottles than should be healthy. Probably enough to kill someone with less alcohol resistance than Krennic.

"Oh, Orson," Erso says and presses his lips to Krennic's. He can taste the alcohol from Krennic's tongue but he keeps kissing anyways. "Why did you drink?"

"Didn't think you would come." His voice is slurred and sad, not angry. Briefly, Erso feels a rush of affection for how much Krennic misses him after even only less than twelve hours of not being together. Then, guilt crashes over him. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Orson. I'm here now," Erso says. "You're in no shape to train, so why don't we do something else? I'm so sorry." 

"Galen," Krennic hiccups, "I love you. You're so beautiful. I love you. I love you. I love you." Erso smiles and gets up but Krennic grabs his hand. "Don't leave me, please. Please, Galen, please don't leave me, don't leave me, promise don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, Orson," Erso says. "How about some coffee? You're off alcohol for the next two weeks." 

"What's a cof ei, I don't want a cof ei. Sounds like shit," Krennic says. Somewhere in that, there's a burp and Erso can't help but laugh a little bit. He slips out the gym for a few minutes to go to mess and grab a cup of coffee. When he comes back, Krennic's still drunk as eight hells. Erso sips the coffee to make sure it's at an okay temperature and starts to pour some into Krennic's mouth while whispering comforting words. Honestly, this isn't the first time Krennic's gotten drunk since they met and Erso learned to get used to his extremely blunt and extremely dumb speech. 

A few moments later, Krennic's calmed down a little bit but he's still more drunk that most people get. 

"Orson? What's your name?" Erso says. He waves a hand over Krennic's face. 

"Wilhuff Tarkin. No...no fuck Tarkin. Bitch killed Bast." Erso freezes and asks him to repeat that. "Moradmin Bast, Galen. He stuck a knife in that bastard before I could get to him. Bitch blamed me for it." Krennic's snarl softens into a keen. "But it  _ was _ my fault. I let him die, Galen. I held him in my arms but I didn't get help! Isn't that funny! Stupid fucking idiot." Erso suddenly felt cold inside.

Krennic may not have realized what Tarkin had done, but Erso knew at once what manipulation this was. He turned Krennic into a public enemy. He depicted him as a murderer. Yularen and Molock were wrong. Krennic tried to  _ save _ Bast. But because he couldn't, he blamed himself for the death...oh hells Erso was almost angry at Krennic for lying to him when he asked about Bast. But he couldn't be. Not now, not ever. 

Krennic suddenly looked very, very vulnerable. His hand shot up to squeeze Erso's. "Suck me, Galen please. I wanted to ask you for  _ days,  _ I wonder why I never asked you." Erso bursts into laughter and mutters something about not understanding drunk people and he complies.

Still, on the inside, he's still thinking about Moradmin Bast. Tarkin sent Bast after Veers because Veers was like a brother to Krennic. But from what he's found, Bast was like a brother to Tarkin. If Tarkin could kill Bast and frame Krennic, who else would he target? 

_ Tagge.  _

Erso's mind went back to the day where he made Krennic eat with him and Yularen. He remembered a few minutes after, Tarkin asked Tagge to do something, and from the way's his lips moved, it seemed like he said 'stay out of this one'. Erso's mind stormed. 

Tarkin relies on Motti too much to enforce his will with brute strength, but...Erso's mind finally makes the connection. Motti was strong and loyal. He was Tarkin's choice for second in command. Ozzel, also, was more Motti's style. Strong and loyal. But Tagge was smart. Tagge was genius who lost his way, and so was Bast. Bast was like Tarkin's brother for a reason. He was also a genius. So Tarkin eliminated him, and at the same time, gave Krennic a dirty reputation. That meant...

If Erso was right, Tagge was in a lot of trouble. 

And not just Tagge. He realized Veers, as well, was a vulnerable person with a lot of talent. Bast probably didn't make it to Veers in time, and knowing Krennic would do something to talk Bast out of killing Veers, Tarkin had to settle with just one death instead of two. Tarkin wanted to eliminate all who could challenge him in talent, but he couldn't kill Erso. Not without making it obvious who it was, so he settled on trying to scare Erso into submission. Veers was tightly connected to Krennic and Krennic had a lot of enemies. Bast, at the time, was not an open supporter of Tarkin so they would think Bast did it on his own will.

But now that Erso had a link with Krennic, it made him a possible target.  _ That's what Motti and Ozzel are doing. They're trying to kill me while Tarkin kills Tagge.  _ Still, the question remained,  _ why does Tarkin want no competition? What is at stake here? _

His thoughts jar to an end and so does Krennic. The taste gets easier every time Erso tries it. Krennic's sweet with a hint of salt. 

Erso's mouth is still closed around Krennic when the gym door hisses open and Erso's eyes dart up, mouth still full, to see Needa looking at him with the worst possible look a friend could ever ask for. 

 

...

 

It took a lot of effort to chase Needa and drag a half unconscious and fully drunk Krennic through the hallways. 

When he finally gets to his quarters, he can see Needa's face planted in his hands. When Erso enters, the look on Needa's face tells Erso he's about to get Hell. 

"What. The. Fripping. Hell," Needa says, sounding almost hurt. "You know, that's not something you can unsee. You know, if you'd just tell me what you were doing at the gym, then I'd avoid looking for you. Avoid trying to make sure you're  _ safe." _

"Look, I'm sorry, Lorth. And I swear that was the first time." Well, the first time he blew Krennic, anyways. 

"Galen, you can't talk your way out of this. I woke up and you were gone. I turned over this school  _ by myself _ to make sure you were safe. Then, I remembered what you said about the gym and I came over," Needa says. "So imagine my shock when I walk in and see you with your mouth around that murderer's cock. And how did you even fit that thing in your mouth...wait, you know what? I don't care." 

"Lorth, there's something I need to tell you." 

"Oh yeah? Besides the fact that you sucked a murderer's cock in the gym at one in the morning?"

"Tarkin raped me." 

" _ What.  _ No way I'm believing that. "

"Believe it. Tarkin, you know him, right?" Needa nods fervently. His eyes latch onto Erso's pupils to check for signs of lying. He gasps when he finds Erso's telling the truth, and he tries to hide his panic knowing full well it was a futile attempt under Erso's watchful eyes. "Orson saved me from him. Tarkin brought three friends, Conan, Cassio, and Siward. Each of them besides Tarkin had a go. I'm not the person I was because of that." Needa looks terrified and guilty with a hint of pity. Erso doesn't want his pity. He continues trying to explain.

"Look, I've gotten myself mixed up in some serious stuff. Orson's actually been training me for a few weeks now. We...we started getting closer and somehow I ended up loving him."

"So you're telling me you're in love with a murderer because he saved you from Tarkin's gang of animals?" 

"That's the point, Lorth. He  _ didn't  _ kill Moradmin."

"Why would you believe the word of a murderer?"

"Orson admitted to me that he killed Moradmin when I asked him about it. But today, because I was, well, late...he started drinking. By drinking, I mean literally downed what looked like fifteen or twenty bottles. By the time I got there, I was two hours late for our usual session, and he was nearly dead drunk." Erso turned and pointed to Krennic who was sitting in the corner, mumbling something about flowers and how much he hated them. 

"Yeah, I got the feeling he might be drunk." Erso rolled his eyes but continued.

"I asked him what his name was after giving him some coffee. He literally said Tarkin's name and said how Tarkin killed Bast. When I asked him to repeat, he said that Tarkin stuck a knife in Bast and he tried to save him. He blamed himself, even when he was drunk, saying how he 'let Bast die'. He didn't kill Bast, Needa, you have to believe me." Needa knew how people tended to tell the truth while drunk and he nodded slowly. "Look, I'm sorry you had to see that. He...he asked, and you know when drunk people want something, they don't filter it. So I did what he asked, but I also figured something out."

"What?"

"Tarkin's next targets."

"Who?"

"Me and Cassio Tagge." 

Needa's eyes widen with panic and he falls into Erso's now strong arms. Erso can feel him shaking and he can hear him sobbing. It's a while before Needa pulls back and looks at Erso again. His eyes are wide and full panic. 

"I'm in this with you," Needa says. He cuts Erso off when Erso begins to speak and shake his head. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I'll be there for you, Galen. Tell me when he's going to try and I'll fight him with my life if I have to."

Erso sighs. "If you fight him, you are giving up your life. Lorth, you have no idea how dangerous Tarkin is."

"He's not dangerous for you, then?"

"He still is. But I'm better prepared than you are." Erso slips his shirt off and shows Needa what Krennic helped him accomplish. Needa's breath leaves him when he see's Erso's transformation. He points to Krennic with a shaky finger. 

"He...he helped you with that?" 

"Yeah. Every night." 

Needa begins to understand. "You're going to war with Tarkin." He closes his eyes when he sees Erso nod darkly. It's his only option. Accept Tarkin's wrath or join Krennic and fight an all out war with Tarkin. "You're not going to fight that son of a bitch alone, Galen. Even with that muscle, I'm going with you." 

"If I'm the cause of your death, don't you realize how much that'll destroy me? Please, Lorth. I told you this so you would understand my situation, not to get you involved. Just stay here and I'll protect you." 

"I have to go with you," Needa says, defiant as always. Erso knows there's no stopping him now. He squeezes his own eyes shut and he thinks about all the possible consequences for what he's about to do. He's wanted war ever since the first night, but now with war looming and death laughing, it seems almost too hard. What Erso said was true - it would destroy him if Needa died because of him. 

"No," Krennic whispers, finally getting a little out of the loud conversation in front of him. "No, you not going. You're gonna die. Tarkin'll kill you like he killed Bast...can't do that...Galen won't forgive." Krennic's eyes were cloudy and he looked tired. He was making more sense but his sentences were forming less and less accurately. Needa smiles weakly. 

"I'm sorry, Orson, I have to go." 

"Oh," Krennic says. He sounds like a child again. So easy to deceive and so easy to please. He shivers a little bit and he complains. "Galen, it's cold. Please...?" 

Erso looked at Needa with a gentle smile, and Needa goes to the bed and throws the blanket at his friend. "Good night, Galen. Night, Orson." He climbs in bed himself, but he watches wistfully as Erso covers Krennic with the blanket and gets in next to him.

"It'll get warmer, I promise." 

"Mmmm." 

 

...

 

The morning did  _ not  _ see that much of a docile Orson Krennic. 

"What the hell am I doing here?" Krennic yelps as he leaps up and looks around. Erso jerks awake and he can hear Needa stirring. Sunlight was beginning to filter in and Krennic looked away as the light blinded him. "Damn, Galen, your quarters smells like shit." 

"No, that's your own breath. And I hacked into your Pass while you were asleep. You don't have access to alcohol for at least two weeks." 

"Damn, I wonder why I liked you in the first place," Krennic says playfully and pulls him into a long kiss. His breath  _ does  _ smell like shit and alcohol and distant vomit, but Erso doesn't mind. He just focuses on the taste which is almost purely Krennic. 

"You know, just when I was beginning to think I could unsee that," Needa groans as he climbs out of bed. Erso breaks from the kiss and smiles at Needa. 

"Unsee what?" 

"Oh..um...when you were drunk, you asked me to suck you and I did."

"Galen, you're a handsome guy. But when you're on the floor sucking a drunk guy...it takes away the edge," Needa says. Krennic laughs and kisses Erso one final time. _I'm not handsome anymore, Lorth. Please never say that again._ But Erso just smiles and goes to brush his teeth. Erso can hear Krennic groaning and talking to Needa about the hangover, so he tries to focus on that voice to find solace from his own thoughts. Because he isn't scared of Tarkin. He isn't scared of dying. All he is, is vengeful and angry. Distantly, he notices that Needa leaves the room and heads for class.

He spits out the minty toothpaste, strips, and steps inside the shower to was his hair which smelled like a hangover too. He hears the door hiss open and Krennic walks in. Erso rolls his eyes. 

"Orson, there's something called privacy," Erso says through the steaming hot water. Honestly, the water's so hot it burns but he stood under it anyways, trying to scrub the lemongrass and strawberry shampoo out of his hair. 

"Surely I don't count?" Krennic says, pulling out his own toothbrush. "I'm using your toothpaste, Galen." 

Erso closed his eyes, savoring how carefree everything was because soon, it would be a bloodbath and both of them knew it.  _We're not boys fighting for top marks anymore. We're men fighting for our lives._

Erso's so calm he doesn't react when Krennic steps into the shower with him, still clothed. When the kiss again, Krennic's breath tasted of mint not beer and it was a welcome change. He's almost surprised he doesn't mind it when Krennic pushes him against the wall and kisses fall more violently. If Tarkin's plan was happening soon, then this might be the last time that they could kiss in a long while. 

Well...longer than twelve hours, anyways. So Erso kisses back and helps Krennic out of his shirt. The feral power of his lover is enough for Erso to be calm again and just sink into Krennic's arms that hold him so tightly and so possessively. Again, Erso doesn't mind being Krennic's. 

Erso realizes why he's not afraid and the answer was so clear the whole time. 

 

Krennic was there and Krennic would save him again and again. 

 


	5. Captured

Tarkin poured some wine for himself and another for Tagge. 

He drank often, but it was always wine. Never beer, never whisky. Tarkin watches as Tagge downed his glass of wine as if it was beer and he smiles, betraying no feelings, but he was disgusted inside.

They're in one of the spare classrooms, and Tarkin's almost surprised Tagge wasn't at all suspicious.

_To think this animal could challenge my throne._

"Why didn't you want me out there, Wilhuff," Tagge asks, his voice gruff. He poured himself some more wine and Tarkin kept staring, sizing up his prey. He never touches his wine.

"I need brutes, not masterminds. I did my homework, Tagge. If Erso comes within a hair of danger, Krennic'll have his men all over us. But if we take Krennic, alone, then we can call his men off." 

Tagge nods, pretending to understand. Tarkin sees the confusion in his eyes but he doesn't comment on it. _Twenty seconds._

"But it does shock me, Cassio."

"What does?" 

"That you'd go after Orson Krennic. Why did you think you could stop him all...by...yourself?" The second hand on Tarkin's watch clicks the twentieth time and whatever answer Tagge had chokes in his throat. Twenty more seconds later, and Tagge's body slumps over and he falls to the ground. Tarkin's smile is haunting and he takes out a pair of gloves. No one would check for poison when there were prints on the neck. 

Not a soul would have guessed Tarkin was the suspect.

 

No one but Erso, but after Krennic is taken care of, taking Erso would be easy. A clean kill to insure his place in Palpatine's Empire. 

 

...

 

Krennic glared at his Pass again and he was almost angry that Erso barred him from alcohol for  _two whole weeks._ He finally decides to stop raging and go to the gym. 

When he arrives, the gym's empty. Krennic's not bothered by it, though. He's been down here plenty of times, alone, mapping out how he could effectively train Erso while leaving time for the two of them. 

Krennic's strong. His mind isn't slow but it wasn't as fast as Tarkin's or Erso's. But he was ambitious and ruthless. Those were the qualities that defined him. Krennic silently reflected as he dropped to the ground to do a few one-armed push ups. He wasn't the good guy. His war with Tarkin wasn't good versus bad. It was dark versus darker. Distantly, Krennic feels guilty for involving Erso in his war.

The door hisses open and Krennic looks up, expecting to see Erso come in, but instead, no one's there. 

Krennic gets up and walks slowly to the door, unnerved. His hand slithers for a knife when suddenly a sharp pain lights up the back of his head. 

"Good work, Conan," Tarkin drawls. 

 

...

 

Krennic jerks awake with his hands firmly bound with binders Tarkin shouldn't have access to. When he looks up, he realizes it's a supply closet. The same supply closet where...

"Is Galen safe" Krennic asks, his voice gruff. The back of his head hurts like all hell. Tarkin's the only other person in the closet.

Tarkin's eyebrows shift into a questioning look. "You were just assaulted, kidnapped, and brought to a supply closet where you're in binders. And your first words are 'is Galen safe'?" Tarkin says. His look is almost disdainful. 

"If you're going to kill me, kill me. I've made my fucking peace with this world a long while ago. Just promise me your bastards stay away from Galen." 

"No promises, Orson," Tarkin says. "Tell me, do you know what this place is?" 

"It's the supply closet where you're motherfuckers raped Galen," Krennic hisses. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. You misunderstand. Do you know what the Republic Futures Program is?" Krennic shakes his head violently. "This is where our Palpatine will find the best officers for his  _Empire."_

"Now how the fuck would you know that?"

Tarkin gives Krennic an infuriatingly condescending look. "As you're very well aware, the Tarkin Family is  _very_ rich and  _very_ privileged. We know things before lessers such as yourself do." Krennic grinds his teeth in anger. Tarkin doesn't even bother trying to conceal his pride and contempt.

"You think a bunch of money makes your family good?" Krennic spits, his speech slurring to the point where you couldn't tell where one word began and the next started. He was angry, so very angry, and Tarkin loved it. "If you have so much  _money_ and  _privilege_ , then why has it taken you so long to get me?"

"You used to be careful. Veers and Belcoze were at your side all the time. Watching your back. Keeping you alert. But  _Galen Erso_ twisted your mind and you're alone so often. You made yourself a target, Orson. You have no one to blame but yourself for this." 

"Why are you doing this."

"Two reasons. I'm eliminating any competitors. And I'm getting revenge for Cassio Tagge." Krennic knows right away what's happening and his mind quickly darts back to when Erso explained it to him

"You sick fuck, first Bast and now Tagge. How many more are you going to kill so you can get a fucking rank in whatever the fuck this 'Empire' is supposed to be."

Tarkin's mind races and he understands. He lashes out and punches Krennic in the nose, hearing a crack beneath his fist. There was no way Krennic could have figured out what he was doing that fast. That meant Erso knew...

"Where is Galen Erso," Tarkin spits, unable to hide his anger any longer. "Where is he!" Tarkin looks surprisingly intimidating when his face twists into all sorts of different scowls and Krennic nearly jumps out his skin. 

"Go to hell." 

"I earned my spot there, Orson. The question is...have you?" Tarkin draws his knife and lets it slide freely into Krennic's arm. The latter screams so loud it makes Tarkin's ears pound. Tarkin smiles as blood starts running down his arm and Krennic starts gasping. Tarkin pauses in his glory when his commslink beeps. Krennic looks up, shaking, his eyes full of hatred.

"Were is Galen Erso!" Tarkin yells. "Conan can't find him anywhere. So you're going to tell me where he is!" 

"I have earned my spot in Hell, bitch," Krennic says and he sweeps his legs across Tarkin's so Tarkin falls to the ground, landing on his back with a sickening  _crunch_. Tarkin gets up and Krennic almost regrets his decision when he sees Tarkin's livid face. Almost. Tarkin hisses and drives the knife in again, straight through the middle of Krennic's clavicle. 

"Son of a bitch," Krennic gasps, feeling the bone give way. Tarkin sinks his knife into Krennic's other shoulder, and listens as Krennic shrieks and pants. When the throbbing noise is over, Tarkin kneels and gets very close to Krennic's face and Krennic can smell the feral scent of excitement coming off his abuser. 

"That's the very last time you're going to bring up my family," Tarkin says. His voice dangerous and low. "You're going to tell me where Galen is and you're going to do it fast unless you want me to leave pieces of you in his quarters." 

Krennic never thought he could hate someone that much. "Two things. One, that's disgusting. Two, you actually think that bastard tells me where he is? We meet up at night but we don't see each other in the day." Tarkin knows that's probably the truth, which it is, but he's having a little too much fun with this.

"Why would I believe you?"

"Because, you evil motherfucker, I'd rather not have you chop me into a chunky salsa and ship it to my boyfriend. So, if you untie me, I can tell you where he is, because I have a pretty good stab at where he might be."

Tarkin stares at him and shrugs. Both of them know Krennic can't overpower Tarkin, not while he's supporting a broken clavicle and a few knife wounds and Tarkin is the one actually holding the knife. So he cuts Krennic loose.

"I'll bite. Where is he?" 

Krennic gives him a meaningful look. "Oh I don't know...behind you?" Tarkin freezes when a cold metal lines his neck and a firm hand grips the one what's holding the knife. 

"I believe you were looking for me?" Erso says, his voice mad with delight.  

Hours seem to pass before anyone says another word. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Erso says when Tarkin tries to struggle.  Erso presses the knife closer and he can feel a thin trickle of blood rolling down Tarkin's neck. "Tagge didn't have to die."

"Oh he did. Tagge was useless. Not smart enough to lead and not strong enough to fight." 

"My apologies, Wilhuff," Erso says. "I didn't think that warranted murder."

"I didn't do it," Tarkin says. A smirk lights his face. "Your boyfriend did it."

Erso laughs, and both Tarkin and Krennic can't help but be a little terrified. "Oh but it was you. My holocam seemed to have picked up what happened," Erso says. He slips a hand into his pocket and tosses the holocam to Krennic who replays the footage of Tarkin and Tagge. 

"Bitch," Tarkin breathes. Tarkin's almost surprised Erso doesn't realize how much of this "compliance" is form. 

"Bitch with a holocam," Erso agrees with a smirk. He releases Tarkin with a shove and he falls to the ground, blood still dripping out of his neck. "Now let's get this straight, Wilhuff. I'm not going to kill you. But if you come after me or Orson Krennic one more time, you'll wish I killed you here."

Erso gets up and helps Krennic, still groaning, to his feet. 

When they're gone, Tarkin smiles a little to himself, wondering how fast it'll take Erso to realize how blatantly he's been maneuvered.

 

...

 

Krennic's lying on Erso's bed, bleeding and shaking, and Erso's trying to put bacta on his wounds.

Bacta promoted the cells to heal themselves, not heal the cells itself, so while Krennic was starting to regenerate, he could still very much feel his wounds. He stifles screams through the towel Erso put through his mouth says as much.

"Shh, you'll be alright," Erso reassures him. 

Erso walks back to the table and picks up his datapad to finish forgotten homework. He pulls another datapad up, hacks into Krennic's account, and does his homework for him too. "Hope your teacher doesn't die of shock," Erso says a few hours later. "You turned in an assignment!" 

Erso heads back to Krennic's bed and can't resist kissing him. Krennic groans at the pressure on his shoulders, but the bacta is healing him and it's a lot less painful. Krennic's mouth still tastes of blood. It's bitter but Erso's too impatient to wait for Krennic to get up and rinse his mouth. 

"Don't scare me like that again," Erso gasps. "Do you know how many security cameras I had to hack into to find you?" 

"Ah, what the hell. Just sleep. And please...sleep here," Krennic says.

"You're in my bed. Where else would I sleep?" Erso returns mockingly. It's late and they really should be getting sleep. "I told Lorth to sleep with Wullf and Trech. You'll be fine, Orson. I promise you."

"Of course I'll be fine. When have I not been?"

"You know, you never explained to me why he's so hellbent on killing you." Krennic squeezes his eyes shut and he doesn't talk for a very long time. "You don't have to talk about it if it's too hard." Krennic waves the suggestion away.

"When I first came here, three years ago, I didn't have the reputation I have today, good or bad it may be. But I was strong and I was street smart. To avoid losing a possibly valuable soldier, Tarkin took me under his wing."

"You were with... _Tarkin?"_ Krennic closes his eyes again as if the memory hurts him. Erso snaps his mouth shut. He needs to hear all of this in case there's a way to defeat Tarkin hidden in the words.

"Yes. I was friends with Motti. With Tagge. With Bast. Tarkin and I were close. Well, not close as in that way, but we were fairly bonded," Krennic says. Erso feels a wave of something he couldn't identify pass over him. Was it anger? Betrayal? It doesn't matter. He keeps listening. "Tarkin never really showed me to any extent the wrong he was doing. He had me calculated from the moment I stepped foot in this building. He knew I wouldn't stand for such violence. But I  _was_ good at intimidating others. So he chose to keep me. As a soldier. As a friend. As a brother. But I never knew the horror he was doing to people until...until...I couldn't find him one day. And that's when I found Maximilian Veers."

"And Tarkin was doing what he did to me to Maximilian." 

"They were violent. Not rape. Rape didn't scare Veers like Tarkin knew it would scare you." Erso nodded, still feeling whatever emotion it was he felt. "I...I pulled them off of him. Ever since then, I've worked to save people from Tarkin. And it's because I...I was one of them, I knew his moves so well. And Tarkin doesn't like being walked out on. He doesn't like his plans being foiled. And he hates when people betray him."

"So that's why you and Maximilian are so close. And why you can predict Tarkin's moves." 

"Can you forgive me?"

Erso bites his lip and kisses Krennic instead of answering. He hurts. His heart bleeds with the sudden knowledge but he doesn't love Krennic any less because of it. So there, they sleep, side by side, engulfed in pain from the heart and pain from the flesh. 

Krennic wakes up in the middle of the night when he hears a noise. 

It's a soft, pained moan accompanied by a gentle keen. Krennic shifts, his wound flaming, and he looks at Erso's face. He's crying in his sleep, whispering nothings and his body jerking. Krennic squeezes his eyes shut, but he laces his fingers through Erso's hair, ignoring the burn in his shoulders. He starts murmuring. Murmuring songs his mother sang to him back at Lexrul. He doesn't remember home anymore, but he'll never forget the songs. His brain flashes and he remembers something else.

He only knows two songs from Grange, but he wills himself to remember them anyways. Krennic knows, despite how strong Erso wants to be, Erso misses home. So he murmurs the songs of Grange, careful not to let his voice raise because he doesn't want to wake Erso and he hates his singing. So he murmurs the words and keeps running his fingertips along Erso's scalp. Erso twitches again and his sobs increase.

"Be strong, Galen. You didn't cry then, so you won't now. I'm here. It's okay." Krennic repeats that over and over, and often mixes in the words from the two songs he knows. Eventually, he can't help it, but his voice raises enough so that he's properly singing. His voice is off-key but beautiful and Erso seems to hear it through the depths of his dreams. Krennic wonders who Erso sees in his dreams who's singing the songs. Is it his mother? Is it his father? Or is it Krennic himself.

Nevertheless, the sobbing recedes and Krennic keeps singing until he falls asleep, or passes out, from exhaustion and the sheer pain in his wounds that he knows would be mostly healed by tomorrow.

But before he does, he sends a silent prayer to the Force that Erso will be save and that nothing will have changed between them. His bitter desire for revenge surges up again, but Erso's soft, terrified snoring calms him.

 

...

 

Erso wakes him in the morning.

 

Erso's commslink beeps several times and Krennic watches as Erso goes over. Krennic can hear Yularen's voice from across the room, and he scowls a bit. Krennic slips out his thoughts and focuses on Erso's conversation. He can't hear Yularen, so he tries to piece together what's happening without seeming like he was intruding on their conversation.

"What do you mean where's Lorth, I sent him over to your quarter's last night." The stare Erso gives Krennic suggests he knows perfectly well what happened. Krennic's impressed at how calm Erso can keep his voice even after this new disaster. "Okay, I'll com him. He probably just went to the bar. Yeah. Okay. Whatever. You too."

Erso whirls around, his pupils burning with hatred.

"He didn't kill me and he didn't kill you. Why?" 

Erso closes his eyes to think but the answer's already there. "If he killed you, now, without Tagge's replacement and a few other factors, Veers would pounce on him and it would be a bloodbath he can't afford to have happen. If he killed me, then Veers would do the same. But, Krennic, you can't convince your guys to fight Tarkin over a death of someone random. The wouldn't risk their lives for Lorth. Perhaps for me and definitely for you, but Lorth...he's deadweight."

"So that son of a bitch wants Lorth because..."

"He wants to hurt me. Because it'll hurt you, and both our tactics will become unstable and more aggressive. And Tarkin'll figure out a way to undermine us. Immediately."

"Not unless we get Lorth back."

Erso punches the wall in a panic and he feels hot tears at his eyes. "This is why I didn't want Lorth involved!" 

Krennic never liked Yularen but he was fond of Needa. And anyone Erso cares about is immediately high up in his list. "We'll get him back, I promise. Even if it's over my dead body." 

 

Erso can't help but wonder if that is the heavy price Tarkin wants them to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half way through this bad boy! 
> 
> My IRL life is hectic and complete crap, so post schedules might be all across the board. Thanks for tuning in!


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